Cast: Nick Capra, Jason Ridge, Andrew Addams, Brett Collins, Parker Williams, Braeden Casey, Paul Johnson, Breck Stewart
Director: Jett Blakk
Non-Sexual: Chris Cummings
Length: 1 hr 44 min
Studio : Arena Entertainment, Red Devil Entertainment
Hot military homos join the mile-high club in this plot-heavy aviator-themed slam-fest from Red Devil Entertainment. Before the flick begins, a note from director Jett Blakk: "To fully appreciate the storyline of The Bombardier, it is recommended you view the film without fast-forwarding." Duh!
Still, with an intricate plot that hinges on past-life regression, closeted WWII aviators and a little-known third atomic bomb dubbed "Sissy Boy", youâ€™ll be glad you didnâ€™t skip past all the superfluous baloney and shuttle directly to the sweaty good stuff. Because, hey, plot matters.
So, like, anyways, French-Canadian â€śTedâ€ť (Breck Stewart) is in therapy because he keeps having these awful nightmares of atomic bombs. With the help of his shrink, heâ€™s transported back to a past life, when he was a bombardier on a secret mission to drop the little-known third nuke on Japan in 1945. You must also realize Tedâ€™s madly in love with his â€śstraightâ€ť co-pilot â€śAnthonyâ€ť (the devilicious, scruffilicious Jason Ridge), but he couldnâ€™t possibly ever express his affection. Or could he?
Oh, but wait, Iâ€™m getting ahead of the story, and thatâ€™s as bad as pressing the â€śSCANâ€ť button on my remote, isnâ€™t it?
As modern-day Ted researches declassified government documents in a library, two hot+horny man fucks (Nick Capra and Paul Johnson) eye each other through the bookstacks. Soon theyâ€™re groping the ample bulges in each otherâ€™s denims and eventually they pleasure each other right there in the aisle, first with mutual deep cock-sucking and then with a thrusty slam dance (Nick as power top, Paul as moaning bottom).
â€śTedâ€ť is hypnotized back to 1945, where he wakes up in a whorehouse waiting room which, oddly enough, looks just like the modern-day shrinkâ€™s office. Two uniformed soldiers enter (Brett Collins, Andrew Addams), both flamingly â€śstraightâ€ť (*cough*) but both apparently horny enough to agree to service each other whilst waiting for the resident poon tang. Theyâ€™re supposed to be hetero, but these guys take to oral and anal buggery as instinctively as would a convict in the stir.
â€śTedâ€ť and â€śAnthonyâ€ť are spending quality time together chatting and bonding in a parked jeep when, suddenly, two mechanics (scruffy stud Parker Williams and baby-smooth jock hunk Braeden Casey) enter the motor pool. Captain Parker orders subordinate hottie Braeden to his knees for some dutiful knob shining, then the ranking officer chows down on the privateâ€™s privates, chews his pink hole and then plows it deep while in the jeep. Donâ€™t miss the sight of Braeden pumping out - and lapping up - a thick wad of cream.
Finally we get to the fateful bombing run, where fawning â€śTedâ€ť and confused â€śAnthonyâ€ť consummate their mid-flight love and lust for each other by choking on each otherâ€™s veiny throttles and then by plowing each other while straddled over the â€śSissy Boyâ€ť A-bomb, eventually splattering its fuselage with their spewed spunk.
To be fair, the cockpit get-up is surprisingly spiffy, as are the costumes throughout, and I definitely got a good-natured kick out of the gloriously cheesy vintage newsreel footage of WWII bombers in flight. But the flimsy bomb bay interior is a joke, and a poorly timed one at that, seeing as itâ€™s the backdrop for the rousing climax and all. Amateurish lighting and videography are a spotty nuisance, too.
But, OMFG, these muscled militaristic dreamboats are to die for! And to fly for, as in flight of a soaring erection sure to hit the sky. In a flick populated with such fine thoroughbred hunks, I must gush superlatively over scruffy faced, fuck-me eyeâ€™d Jason Ridge, whoâ€™s the tastiest, juiciest and absolute dreamiest steed here!
[Cue excited horseâ€™s neighing].
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